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My Books
- Book List & Themes
- Strictly for Adults Novels >
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Tales from Portlaw
>
- No Need to Look for Love
- 'The Love Quartet' >
-
The Priest's Calling Card
>
- Chapter One - The Irish Custom
- Chapter Two - Patrick Duffy's Family Background
- Chapter Three - Patrick Duffy Junior's Vocation to Priesthood
- Chapter Four - The first years of the priesthood
- Chapter Five - Father Patrick Duffy in Seattle
- Chapter Six - Father Patrick Duffy, Portlaw Priest
- Chapter Seven - Patrick Duffy Priest Power
- Chapter Eight - Patrick Duffy Groundless Gossip
- Chapter Nine - Monsignor Duffy of Portlaw
- Chapter Ten - The Portlaw Inheritance of Patrick Duffy
- Bigger and Better >
- The Oldest Woman in the World >
-
Sean and Sarah
>
- Chapter 1 - 'Return of the Prodigal Son'
- Chapter 2 - 'The early years of sweet innocence in Portlaw'
- Chapter 3 - 'The Separation'
- Chapter 4 - 'Separation and Betrayal'
- Chapter 5 - 'Portlaw to Manchester'
- Chapter 6 - 'Salford Choices'
- Chapter 7 - 'Life inside Prison'
- Chapter 8 - 'The Aylesbury Pilgrimage'
- Chapter 9 - Sean's interest in stone masonary'
- Chapter 10 - 'Sean's and Tony's Partnership'
- Chapter 11 - 'Return of the Prodigal Son'
- The Alternative Christmas Party >
-
The Life of Liam Lafferty
>
- Chapter One: ' Liam Lafferty is born'
- Chapter Two : 'The Baptism of Liam Lafferty'
- Chapter Three: 'The early years of Liam Lafferty'
- Chapter Four : Early Manhood
- Chapter Five : Ned's Secret Past
- Chapter Six : Courtship and Marriage
- Chapter Seven : Liam and Trish marry
- Chapter Eight : Farley meets Ned
- Chapter Nine : 'Ned comes clean to Farley'
- Chapter Ten : Tragedy hits the family
- Chapter Eleven : The future is brighter
-
The life and times of Joe Walsh
>
- Chapter One : 'The marriage of Margaret Mawd and Thomas Walsh’
- Chapter Two 'The birth of Joe Walsh'
- Chapter Three 'Marriage breakup and betrayal'
- Chapter Four: ' The Walsh family breakup'
- Chapter Five : ' Liverpool Lodgings'
- Chapter Six: ' Settled times are established and tested'
- Chapter Seven : 'Haworth is heaven is a place on earth'
- Chapter Eight: 'Coming out'
- Chapter Nine: Portlaw revenge
- Chapter Ten: ' The murder trial of Paddy Groggy'
- Chapter Eleven: 'New beginnings'
-
The Woman Who Hated Christmas
>
- Chapter One: 'The Christmas Enigma'
- Chapter Two: ' The Breakup of Beth's Family''
- Chapter Three: From Teenager to Adulthood.'
- Chapter Four: 'The Mills of West Yorkshire.'
- Chapter Five: 'Harrison Garner Showdown.'
- Chapter Six : 'The Christmas Dance'
- Chapter Seven : 'The ballot for Shop Steward.'
- Chapter Eight: ' Leaving the Mill'
- Chapter Ten: ' Beth buries her Ghosts'
- Chapter Eleven: Beth and Dermot start off married life in Galway.
- Chapter Twelve: The Twin Tragedy of Christmas, 1992.'
- Chapter Thirteen: 'The Christmas star returns'
- Chapter Fourteen: ' Beth's future in Portlaw'
-
The Last Dance
>
- Chapter One - ‘Nancy Swales becomes the Widow Swales’
- Chapter Two ‘The secret night life of Widow Swales’
- Chapter Three ‘Meeting Richard again’
- Chapter Four ‘Clancy’s Ballroom: March 1961’
- Chapter Five ‘The All Ireland Dancing Rounds’
- Chapter Six ‘James Mountford’
- Chapter Seven ‘The All Ireland Ballroom Latin American Dance Final.’
- Chapter Eight ‘The Final Arrives’
- Chapter Nine: 'Beth in Manchester.'
- 'Two Sisters' >
- Fourteen Days >
-
‘The Postman Always Knocks Twice’
>
- Author's Foreword
- Contents
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
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Celebrity Contacts
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Thoughts and Musings
- Bereavement >
- Nature >
-
Bill's Personal Development
>
- What I'd like to be remembered for
- Second Chances
- Roots
- Holidays of Old
- Memorable Moments of Mine
- Cleckheaton Consecration
- Canadian Loves
- Mum's Wisdom
- 'Early life at my Grandparents'
- Family Holidays
- 'Mother /Child Bond'
- Childhood Pain
- The Death of Lady
- 'Soldiering On'
- 'Romantic Holidays'
- 'On the roof'
- Always wear clean shoes
- 'Family Tree'
- The importance of poise
- 'Growing up with grandparents'
- Love & Romance >
- Christian Thoughts, Acts and Words >
- My Wedding
- My Funeral
- Audio Downloads
- My Singing Videos
- Bill's Blog
- Contact Me
The One That Got Away
Ask any keen fisherman about the ones they caught and 'the ‘one that got away’ and they will no doubt have a line to cast. However many ‘big fish’ one is able to catch, there is always a sense of lingering disappointment about having missed out on increasing the size of one’s catch. With me however, when two big fish took the bait and were subsequently caught, the circumstances were not appropriate to retain them, so I decided to throw them back into the river.
Between 1990 and 2005, I had dozens of children’s books published and a musical play, (allowing all £200,000 profit from book sales to be given to charity). I’d also held over 2,000 storytelling assemblies in Yorkshire Schools. In order to help make the school children feel ‘special’ for the day, I arranged for one of my stories to be publicly read to them by a celebrity.
Between 1990 and 2005, I had dozens of children’s books published and a musical play, (allowing all £200,000 profit from book sales to be given to charity). I’d also held over 2,000 storytelling assemblies in Yorkshire Schools. In order to help make the school children feel ‘special’ for the day, I arranged for one of my stories to be publicly read to them by a celebrity.
I am pleased to say that from 850 celebrities who I invited to hold storytelling assemblies in our schools, fewer than five declined. From the remaining 845 invitations that were accepted, I only ever twice needed to ‘withdraw the prior invitation issued and cancel the planned reading.’ The two women concerned could not have been as different had they tried. They came from political yet widely different backgrounds and whereas one was often more brazen in response and prepared to reveal perhaps more than she was wise to do, the other simply glided gracefully through the stillest of lakes without so much as making a ripple in her progression of the water, yet raising the blood pressure of any male admirer who looked on.
The two readers involved were both of the female gender, but couldn’t have been more opposite in characteristics and personality had they tried. One was Margaret Thatcher and the other was Cherie Blair-Booth. One of them went on to become ‘the first woman Prime Minister of Great Britain’ while the other strived to become the ‘First Lady in the Land’; a role which the press and media seemed determined to stop her being. The one thing however, they undoubtedly shared in common, was that both have slept in the bed of a Prime Minister!
I muse wryly when I think today, how much a one-hour public appearance by either of them would now command, when back in the 90s they were both prepared to spend one hour reading for me in a Yorkshire school for ‘nil fee’?
I muse wryly when I think today, how much a one-hour public appearance by either of them would now command, when back in the 90s they were both prepared to spend one hour reading for me in a Yorkshire school for ‘nil fee’?
The year when Tony Blair got into power, Cherie Blair agreed to visit a school in Ravensthorpe, Dewsbury, to read from a book of mine entitled, ’Douglas the Dragon’. That book had proved to have been so popular with the child reader that it was being republished to raise money for a disabled centre in Dewsbury. The reading was provisionally scheduled to take place in the New Year. Naturally, the staff and children of the appointed school were looking forward to having the Prime Minister’s wife visit them, and for a number of months, I was in regular contact with Cherie Blair’s secretary, Fiona Millar.
In November of that year, Tony Blair and his Government announced that they were proposing to reduce some of the benefits for disabled people. Not only did I disagree with this policy by New Labour, but it also presented me with a moral dilemma.
On one hand, I was arranging for the Prime Minister’s wife to publicly read in a school ‘from a book that was specifically published to raise money for disabled people’ while afterwards, she would be going home to the very man ‘who was planning to reduce the benefits of the disabled claimant!’
On one hand, I was arranging for the Prime Minister’s wife to publicly read in a school ‘from a book that was specifically published to raise money for disabled people’ while afterwards, she would be going home to the very man ‘who was planning to reduce the benefits of the disabled claimant!’
Having publicly campaigned for the rights of the disabled person since the age of 18 years, I possessed enough political nous to figure out that if I went ahead with this scheduled reading, the press and media would have a field day. On one side, I’d be accused of being somewhat ‘hypocritical’. On the other, if I allowed the event to go ahead as planned, the media would blockade the school and all the publicity would be about ‘politics’ instead of the children and the Disabled Centre they were helping to raise funds for.
In November of that year, I wrote two letters: the first was a letter of disgust to Prime Minister, Tony Blair at the proposed policies he was planning. The second letter was to Cherie, withdrawing the invitation I had made and which she’d accepted, to read at a school in Dewsbury. I emphasised that to allow the invitation to remain ‘open’ would be to place her in an invidious position with the press.
In December, I received a phone call at my home from ‘Number 10’. There was a very irate man on the other end of the phone who merely introduced himself with the words, "Number 10 here. Is that Mr Forde?"
I replied, "I’m Mr Forde. Who am I speaking with?"
In December, I received a phone call at my home from ‘Number 10’. There was a very irate man on the other end of the phone who merely introduced himself with the words, "Number 10 here. Is that Mr Forde?"
I replied, "I’m Mr Forde. Who am I speaking with?"
"Campbell here," the voice replied. "I have a letter in front of me, from you to the Prime Minister’s wife, cancelling her attendance at a Dewsbury school in the New Year."
"What are you doing reading a letter to Mrs Blair from me that is clearly marked, ‘For her attention only’?" I asked.
After a brief silence, the man said in an arrogant tone of voice, "You can’t arrange for the wife of the Prime Minister to read your little book and then after she has agreed to do so, cancel her! That’s not on. That’s crap!"
"What are you doing reading a letter to Mrs Blair from me that is clearly marked, ‘For her attention only’?" I asked.
After a brief silence, the man said in an arrogant tone of voice, "You can’t arrange for the wife of the Prime Minister to read your little book and then after she has agreed to do so, cancel her! That’s not on. That’s crap!"
"There’s no such word as ‘can’t’ in Yorkshire, you rude man," I replied in an annoyed tone, "And as for ‘can’t cancel her’, I just have done!"
At this point, I hung up on the rude man at the other end of the phone. Within half a minute, he phoned me back. He was very angry. He did not seem to be the type of man who had ever become accustomed to being ‘hung up’.
"Did you just put the phone down on me?" he asked angrily.
"Did you just put the phone down on me?" he asked angrily.
"Yes, I did," I replied," and I’ll put it down again if you continue to speak to me so rudely and arrogantly."
At this point, the content of the caller’s conversation assumed a tone of implied intimidation as he said," Are you aware that you are in line for upgrade to a CBE? Also, this could be a very bad move for your writing career."
I responded in instant disgust and ‘hung up’ once more. The caller did not ring back. I naturally tried to establish if the call had indeed come from the Office of ‘Number 10’ but was unable to do so as the caller’s number had been withheld.
At the time of receiving this phone call from a person identifying himself as ‘Campbell’, Alistair Campbell wasn’t the well-known figure behind the throne of power that he would emerge as in later years. While, I have no way of ascertaining whether or not my ‘Number 10’ phone caller was indeed ‘the’ Alistair Campbell who became the scourge of all who ever crossed him, I have since heard the voice of the real Alistair Campbell many times and can only say that I am unable to spot any significant difference between both voices!
I responded in instant disgust and ‘hung up’ once more. The caller did not ring back. I naturally tried to establish if the call had indeed come from the Office of ‘Number 10’ but was unable to do so as the caller’s number had been withheld.
At the time of receiving this phone call from a person identifying himself as ‘Campbell’, Alistair Campbell wasn’t the well-known figure behind the throne of power that he would emerge as in later years. While, I have no way of ascertaining whether or not my ‘Number 10’ phone caller was indeed ‘the’ Alistair Campbell who became the scourge of all who ever crossed him, I have since heard the voice of the real Alistair Campbell many times and can only say that I am unable to spot any significant difference between both voices!
Of one thing however, I was in little doubt: by the end of the phone call, I’d concluded that somebody had stopped the letter I had sent getting into the hands of the Prime Minister’s wife and had phoned with the intention of persuading me ‘to request it be sent back’. Added to this art of persuasion was the probable threatened ruin of my future writing career, countered with a sweetener and possible bribe of another ‘gong’.
In later years when Alistair Campbell was still at the height of his powers in ‘Number 10’, I discovered that a petition to upgrade my MBE had indeed been sent to ‘The Honour’s Committee’, endorsed by the Earl of Harewood, three Bishops, numerous other notables and hundreds of Headmasters and Headmistresses in West Yorkshire schools. No upgrade proved forthcoming, but I wasn’t surprised.
On Christmas Eve of their first year in ‘Number 10’ at 6pm, before the Prime Minister and his family went abroad for their much highly publicised holiday, Cherie wrote me a letter in long hand and posted it. She had only just received my letter and expressed ‘disappointment’ at my decision to withdraw my invitation and cancel her planned reading to the Dewsbury children. Her letter went on to say that "You have got Tony wrong and he intends to do ......... for the disabled etc." (None of which I hasten to add,did he ever do!).
In later years when Alistair Campbell was still at the height of his powers in ‘Number 10’, I discovered that a petition to upgrade my MBE had indeed been sent to ‘The Honour’s Committee’, endorsed by the Earl of Harewood, three Bishops, numerous other notables and hundreds of Headmasters and Headmistresses in West Yorkshire schools. No upgrade proved forthcoming, but I wasn’t surprised.
On Christmas Eve of their first year in ‘Number 10’ at 6pm, before the Prime Minister and his family went abroad for their much highly publicised holiday, Cherie wrote me a letter in long hand and posted it. She had only just received my letter and expressed ‘disappointment’ at my decision to withdraw my invitation and cancel her planned reading to the Dewsbury children. Her letter went on to say that "You have got Tony wrong and he intends to do ......... for the disabled etc." (None of which I hasten to add,did he ever do!).
In January of the New Year, I received a telephone call from Fiona Millar. During this somewhat cryptic call, she started by saying, "I understand that Cherie Booth wrote you a hand-written letter on Christmas Eve?"
"Yes," I replied with as much politeness as I could muster.
After some moments of uneasy silence, Fiona Millar asked me outright, "What was the content of this letter?................. What do you intend to do with it?............. as it would never do were it to get into the wrong hands!"
I essentially replied, "The letter is personal and what I intend to do with it is my own business," upon which I ended the telephone call.
At this point, all positive contact with the Office of ‘Number 10’ ceased apart from a few letter communications I later had with Cherie Blair.
"Yes," I replied with as much politeness as I could muster.
After some moments of uneasy silence, Fiona Millar asked me outright, "What was the content of this letter?................. What do you intend to do with it?............. as it would never do were it to get into the wrong hands!"
I essentially replied, "The letter is personal and what I intend to do with it is my own business," upon which I ended the telephone call.
At this point, all positive contact with the Office of ‘Number 10’ ceased apart from a few letter communications I later had with Cherie Blair.
It was only sometime after that, I discovered that Alistair Campbell and Fiona Millar had been live-in partners for a good number of years and had parented children together. Only then did I start to realise what they had tried to do.
In their capacity as ‘Gate keepers’ to both the Prime Minister and his wife, it now looked like he had tried to get me ‘to ask for the return of my letter to Cherie Blair, without her ever knowing of its existence’, while Fiona Millar had tried ‘to persuade me to send her back, Cherie Blair’s handwritten letter to me, to prevent any public knowledge of its existence’.
It later transpired through a range of articles put into the public domain, that during the early years of Tony Blair’s reign, the spin doctor machine at ‘Number 10’ worked in permanent overdrive and was so preoccupied with the ‘image’ of Tony and Cherie that they would go to almost any lengths to protect and preserve it.
The hand written letter was political dynamite by the time of the next General Election and though sorely tempted to reveal its full contents to the media, I knew that to do so would have been wrong. So I sent the letter back to Cherie for destoying and didn't keep a copy.
In their capacity as ‘Gate keepers’ to both the Prime Minister and his wife, it now looked like he had tried to get me ‘to ask for the return of my letter to Cherie Blair, without her ever knowing of its existence’, while Fiona Millar had tried ‘to persuade me to send her back, Cherie Blair’s handwritten letter to me, to prevent any public knowledge of its existence’.
It later transpired through a range of articles put into the public domain, that during the early years of Tony Blair’s reign, the spin doctor machine at ‘Number 10’ worked in permanent overdrive and was so preoccupied with the ‘image’ of Tony and Cherie that they would go to almost any lengths to protect and preserve it.
The hand written letter was political dynamite by the time of the next General Election and though sorely tempted to reveal its full contents to the media, I knew that to do so would have been wrong. So I sent the letter back to Cherie for destoying and didn't keep a copy.
A number of years later, I was able to make up for any possible disappointment that the Disability Centre in Dewsbury may have experienced as a consequence of me withdrawing Cherie Blair’s invitation to help launch their book, when I successfully arranged for The Princess Royal, Princess Anne, to officially open the Disabled Centre in Dewsbury (Disabled Persons’ Electronic Village Hall).
In the picture on the left, is young Philip Dudley presenting a bouquet to The Princess Royal, Princess Anne, on the day of her visit to the Disabled Persons’ Electronic Village Hall in Dewsbury, accompanied by his grandfather, Mr Robert Dudley.
To make up for any disappointment possibly caused to ‘Ravensthorpe Junior School’ in Dewsbury for withdrawing their opportunity of having a special visit from the Prime Minister’s wife, over the ensuing years I did manage to bring them a number of celebrity readers besides dedicating one of my published books to their school. That book, entitled,’ Two Worlds- One Heart’ eventually found itself in the hands of Nelson Mandela as it contained an African story about him. To my utter astonishment, the man himself later phoned me up at my home, told me that he had read my book and described the story as being ‘wonderful’.
Around six months or so after the death of Roy Castle, I received a phone call from Margaret Thatcher’s personal secretary. Maggie had previously been invited to publicly read from my book, ‘Nancy’s Song’ and had provisionally agreed to do so at a near future date.
‘Nancy’s Song’ had been written in celebration of the lately deceased Roy Castle and was being published to raise revenue for ‘The Roy Castle Appeal’, which Roy had established prior to his death.
The purpose of Mrs Thatcher’s secretary phoning me was to appraise me of a situation that I might wish to take into consideration before deciding if Mrs Thatcher ought to go ahead with the scheduled reading of ‘Nancy’s Song’ in one of our Yorkshire schools.
I was told, "Lady Thatcher agreed to read ‘Nancy’s Song’ for you as invited, and still will do, but feels that I should inform you of certain matters before we go ahead with finalising venue times and details, etc."
‘Nancy’s Song’ had been written in celebration of the lately deceased Roy Castle and was being published to raise revenue for ‘The Roy Castle Appeal’, which Roy had established prior to his death.
The purpose of Mrs Thatcher’s secretary phoning me was to appraise me of a situation that I might wish to take into consideration before deciding if Mrs Thatcher ought to go ahead with the scheduled reading of ‘Nancy’s Song’ in one of our Yorkshire schools.
I was told, "Lady Thatcher agreed to read ‘Nancy’s Song’ for you as invited, and still will do, but feels that I should inform you of certain matters before we go ahead with finalising venue times and details, etc."
I was then told that some time prior to the death of Roy Castle (whom Lady Thatcher reportedly admired), both had occasion to meet at some celebrity function. At this function, Lady Thatcher had approached Roy and he had reportedly ‘snubbed her’ (presumably because of their widely-held different political beliefs). While Lady Thatcher was said to hold no ill-feeling about this incident, she was aware that the monies raised from the sale of ‘Nancy’s Song’ would be given to ‘The Roy Castle Appeal’ and was sensitive enough to surmise that were Roy alive today that ‘he might not want her to read from any book designed to raise monies for his Appeal’.
I thanked the secretary for conveying Lady Thatcher’s message and concerns and politely withdrew my invitation for ‘The Iron Lady’ to read.
I thanked the secretary for conveying Lady Thatcher’s message and concerns and politely withdrew my invitation for ‘The Iron Lady’ to read.
I was amazed to witness such a level of sensitivity from such a political giant of our age. I was simply astounded to come across such consideration from the very woman who’d issued the command to ‘sink the Belgrano,’ being displayed towards an old adversary to whom she displayed no ill-will.
Here was ‘The Iron Lady’ displaying her finest of armoury: her steely determination to do what was right and carry out her commitment while still being prepared to ignore a perceived wrong to her own person. I’m sure she will go down in the annals of history as one of the greatest Prime Ministers that this country has ever had!
Here was ‘The Iron Lady’ displaying her finest of armoury: her steely determination to do what was right and carry out her commitment while still being prepared to ignore a perceived wrong to her own person. I’m sure she will go down in the annals of history as one of the greatest Prime Ministers that this country has ever had!
Two women, each of whom occupied the premises of ‘Number Ten’ for a decade or more and yet, I suspect one loved all the pomp and ceremony that attached itself to Office there while the other found it difficult to juggle all the balls. Two women; one with infinitely more substance than the other!
Copyright William Forde: March 2012.
Copyright William Forde: March 2012.